


Electric

by imagining_supernatural



Series: Electric [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 00:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagining_supernatural/pseuds/imagining_supernatural
Summary: You, Sam, and Dean are on a hunt that goes terribly wrong when you get electrocuted.





	1. Chapter 1

“You did not!” Sam laughed, tilting back in his chair until he was precariously perched on the back two legs.

“I did too!” you grinned and took another swig of your beer. “What was I supposed to do? I was eight and the creepy boy who followed me around at recess kissed me. Of course I punched him.”

Dean chuckled and raised his bottle to you in a toast. “You’ve always been a pistol, haven’t you? But that doesn’t count as your first real kiss. Tell all and don’t hold back, sweetheart. This is a safe space.”

Dean’s attempt at chick flick dialogue made you laugh. “Fine, fine. Let’s see… my first _real_ kiss? I’d say that was… oh! Daniel Pewter. Sophomore year in high school. A group of my friends and friends of friends got together and decided to play spin the bottle, ‘cause no one actually plays that in real life and we thought we’d be fun and _edgy_. I spun. It landed on Daniel. We went to the closet and I could have sworn he was part fish or something. I was drowning and it was horrible and I swore off all men.”

“Until…” Sam prodded.

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t know what it was, but the Winchesters loved hearing stories about your past. Maybe it was the way you managed to turn the most uneventful events into grand tales of intrigue and adventure, or maybe they just loved hearing about your awkward misfortunes.

“Until Jeremy Hardy. He was the most popular guy in school and he asked me to junior prom. I didn’t really care about that, but he was cute and rich so I figured I could have a fun night. My friends and I went shopping for dresses and we spent all day on our hair and makeup and had a blast. Jeremy was a perfect gentleman and he was funny and totally using me to make his ex jealous, but I didn’t care because we ended up steaming up the windows of his car at the end of the night.” You saw Dean’s next question on his face and answered it. “Fully clothed. Or, mostly fully clothed.”

“So if you didn’t lose your v-card then, then when…”

“Oh, Deany baby,” you cooed, using your nickname that drove him crazy because it wasn’t _manly_ enough and he _wasn’t anything like those little stuffed animals that crazy people collect_. “You only get one story a day. And that story is definitely one that you two have to earn.”

Dean started to argue while Sam just watched amusedly, but then his phone rang and he sent it a dirty look before answering it. “Yeah? Yeah. Mm-hmm, sure. Missouri? We’ll head out now. Yeah, we will. Thanks Bobby.”

He hung up and looked up to find both you and Sam watching him expectantly. It had been nearly two weeks since you’d found a hunt and the three of you were itching for something to do. “Bobby found something in Missouri.”

“Yeah. We got that. What did Bobby find?” Sam asked impatiently.

“Seven kids in the last week have gone missing.”

“One a day?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. Bobby’s gonna call us on the road or send us the details. But we gotta get going.”

You stood and wiped your palms on your jeans, eager for a hunt. “I’ll be ready in three.”

* * *

“Ma’am, I know this is difficult, but anything you can tell us will help.”

Dean watched you lay a comforting hand on the young mother’s shoulder and wondered how he and Sam had functioned without you. Hunts seemed to go a lot smoother when you were there to mediate and bring some level-headedness to the table. And the way you handled the people? It was amazing. You knew exactly how to push their buttons so they would calm down and tell you exactly what you needed to know.

The mother sniffled. “It’s just so _hard_! My baby left for school one day and she never came home.”

You wrapped an arm around the woman and patted her arm. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Dean led the way into her living room and took the armchair across from the loveseat. His eyes followed you as you walked the mother across the room and helped her sit down on the loveseat. Then he leaned forward and followed the script that the two of you had silently created in the last year of hunting together.

“You said your daughter left for school? Did she walk?” The woman nodded, wiping at her eyes. Dean pretended to note the answer in the small pad of paper he kept in his FBI jacket. “And she was reported absent at school, correct?”

“Yes,” she answered weakly. Dean exchanged a look with you, and you nodded, letting him know that you would take over for a moment.

“Did your daughter always take the same route? Same streets at the same time?”

Again, the woman nodded. “Mariah was a good girl. And fourth grade isn’t too early to have her walk a few blocks alone! Especially in a neighborhood like this.”

Shifting in his seat, Dean had an unsympathetic comment about how she would probably change her mind now, but with a look from you, he bit his lip and looked down at his hands, like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“I’m sure Mariah is a very good girl. Could you possibly tell me how she walked to school? Which roads she took and such?” You asked. The young mother nodded and stood to go get a map of the neighborhood.

Dean took advantage of her brief absence to lean forward and whisper to you. “What are you thinking we’re dealing with?”

“I have no idea,” you answered honestly, holding his eyes with your piercing gaze. “But all of the kids seem to go missing on their way to or from school, so maybe whatever we’re dealing with is holed up at one of these houses. We map the routes—“

“Find where they intersect and we find the house. Genius.”

Dean watched as you asked the right questions and calmed the woman down just long enough for her to map out her daughter’s route to school. Then you were politely excusing the two of you and next thing he knew, Dean was walking to his Impala.

“Hey Dean,” you said. He glanced over at you expectantly. You had a grin on your face and his own smile responded immediately.

“Yeah?”

“Five bucks says the first thing Sam says when we walk in is, ‘_So get this_.’”

Dean just shook his head, laughing as he unlocked his baby. “That’s a sucker’s bet, but I’ll take it.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

* * *

“So get this,” Sam said as soon as he heard the motel room door open. He glanced up to see Dean sigh and dig out his wallet. Cocking his head to the side, Sam watched in confusion as Dean grabbed some cash and slapped it into your hand. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Dean growled at the same time you said, “A bet.”

Dean glared at you and Sam just raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation that he knew you would give. “A bet that _you_ helped me win. So thanks, Sammy.”

“You’re… welcome?” Sam said uncertainly as you leaned down and kissed the top of his head victoriously. Then he shook his head to clear it. After a year of hunting, you’d think that he would be used to your random quirks and spontaneous bets and adventures. “Anyway, I think I know what we’re dealing with.”

“Don’t hold back now,” Dean said, grabbing a beer and lounging on his bed.

“I think there’s a Rawhead in this town.”

“Rawhead?” You asked dubiously. “What is that, some kind of a heavy metal fan?”

“It’s a legend that was used to scare kids into obeying their parents. It’s kind of like a boogeyman. It says here that they like to dwell near ponds because they were originally a _cautionary tale to keep children from drowning_. But they also can live in cupboards or under the stairs. They have scalped, bleeding heads and sit on a pile of bloody bones.” Sam finished his lecture and sat back.

He waited while you came over and peered over his shoulder at the website. Dean always took Sam’s word on faith, but you had this habit of double checking his research and trying to find anything that he missed. It had bugged him at first, but after a few weeks, Sam got used to it and even started looking forward to your cross examination.

“So how do we kill it?” You asked, satisfied with his research.

“Electrocution,”

“Electrocution?” Dean asked, sitting up. “How are we gonna do that?”

“Easy,” you shrugged. You stood up straight and walked over to your duffle. Digging through the contents took a minute and Sam exchanged a look with Dean who shrugged. Neither Winchester knew what you were going to come up with, but they’d learned to expect anything from your bag. One time you pulled out a bag of those balloons they use to make balloon animals, and another time a bag full of plastic lizards emerged. Why you kept such things around was a mystery to them, but the Winchesters had gotten used to your little quirks and those things became the things they loved the most about you, right after your witty retorts and give ‘em hell attitude.

Finally, you made a triumphant noise and pulled out a modified, plastic looking gun.

“A taser?” Sam asked. You nodded energetically. “Why do you just happen to have a taser?”

“A girl can’t be too careful, now can she?”

“Remind me not to piss you off,” Sam said with a grin, which you returned easily.

“Aw, Sam. You don’t have to be scared when I have a taser or a gun,” the mischievous glint in your eyes made him wary. “I have an entire folder of clown pictures I can send you for a week straight if you piss me off.”

He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward challengingly. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Samuel,” you replied, mimicking his posture. He stared into your eyes for a moment longer before tearing himself away.

The three of you researched and joked around for a few more hours before calling it a night. Sam kept throwing glances your way, trying not to let his emotions show. Lately his feelings hadn’t been exactly _friendly_ toward you, but he didn’t want to rock the boat. Besides, the women he fell in love with didn’t have the best luck, so he did his best to stay away from you.

Dean came out of the bathroom and you jumped up to beat Sam to the punch. Before you disappeared through the door, you looked back at the brothers. “I’ll bunk with Sammy tonight. I don’t want to have to deal with Dean and his ass’s burrito breath.”

“I bet it’s better than Sam’s octopus arms,” Dean replied, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam. Sam caught that look in Dean’s eye, the one that said _I know what’s going on with you_. Sam just narrowed his eyes at his brother and pushed everything down again.

“Don’t dis on Sam. He’s a good cuddler. You could learn a thing or two, Dean.” Sam’s heart skipped a beat when you winked at him before closing the door.

“Dude,” Dean said knowingly.

“What?”

“You know what,” Dean looked pointedly toward the bathroom.

Sam scoffed in a way he thought was completely believable. “Wha—no. C’mon, Dean.”

“Just keep it PG tonight,” Dean grinned. Sam started to argue, but Dean just held his hands up in mock surrender and left the room to get something from the Impala, leaving Sam sputtering and thinking thoughts about you that _definitely_ wouldn’t be rated PG.

* * *

“Scoot over, Sammy,” you sat on the bed and shimmied over, knocking against his side until he made room for you. You noted that he didn’t move over as far as usual, leaving less space between the two of you. And it was just _too bad_ that you had to be pressed against his side with nowhere else to go. _Really_ unfortunate.

Propping your chin on his shoulder, you scanned the pages of the book he was reading. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a lore book. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him read anything just for fun.

“Do you mind?” He asked, trying to act perturbed.

“Oh, not at all. You can turn the page if you want,” you replied, completely innocent. Purposefully misunderstanding Sam was one of your favorite hobbies. It was so much fun to watch him try and pretend he wasn’t amused. And the way the corners of his lips tried to quirk up against his will was the best part of every day.

He didn’t let down this time. From your vantage point on his shoulder, you could almost feel the muscles in his cheeks twitching. Then he twisted his head and you started to jerk back from the shock of being so close to his face, but caught yourself and held your ground. There was barely an inch between your faces and it was a struggle to keep your eyes above his nose. He chuckled airily. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible girl,” you mused. “You know, I don’t remember being on Doctor Who, but if you say so…”

The door to the room opened and Dean breezed in. “They had pie in the vending machines. Pie! In the vending machines! Man, I love this place.” He paused, looking at the two of you and raised an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” you said, your cheek brushing Sam’s as you shook your head. Since Sam hadn’t moved, you didn’t move either. “I hope you got me a piece too.”

“Cherry. I’ll put it in the fridge for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Deany baby,” you cooed, finally moving away from Sam slightly.

Sam rolled his eyes and set his book aside. “I don’t know how you two are still alive.”

“Hey, there’s fruit in pie. It’s a good breakfast,” you defended. “Back me up here, Dean.”

Settling down in his bed, Dean nodded. “Fruit. The crust is like toast. Bam! Breakfast.”

Rolling his eyes again, Sam slid down into the bed and held the covers open for you. The sight was so inviting that you took a minute just to enjoy it before you slipped under the covers and curled into him. With his arms around you and the steady beat of his heart under your ear, you could relax completely.

“So do we get a bedtime story about the guy who popped your cherry?” Sam asked.

You shifted until your chin was on his chest and you were looking up at him. “Is there a reason you waited until we were in bed to ask that question, Sam?”

“What?” His face turned red so quickly that if you had blinked, you would have missed it. “No! I just… I, uh—“

From across the room, Dean chuckled. “I bet he was hoping for a reenactment, eh Sammy?”

Since that comment was definitely an open invitation for a little brotherly spat and it was much too late, you decided to turn the tables on Dean to get his mind off torturing Sam. “Well, if we did reenact it, you’d be the one who had to put up with us all night long.”

“At least I’d have some entertainment,” Dean replied without thinking, the springs in the mattress squeaking as he shifted positions.

That was exactly the response you’d been hoping for. “Really? You wanna watch your brother have sex?”

“What?” He sputtered with wide eyes. “No. That’s _not _what I meant.” A disgusted shudder ripped through his body, much to your amusement and even Sam chuckled silently. “Gross.”

“That’s what I thought.” You settled back into Sam, content that you’d gotten the last word.

“So…” Sam said, letting his fingers lightly trace patterns on your shoulder. “About that story…”

“Nope. You two haven’t earned it yet. I’ll think of something really embarrassing and public that you have to do to unlock that level.”

Dean grumbled and turned over until his back was toward you and Sam. Sam reached over and turned off the light and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the bedsprings as the two of you settled further into the bed. Only once one of your legs was thrown over Sam’s and your hand was resting on his chest right in front of your face were you completely comfortable. You absently scratched at the fabric of his shirt with your fingernail until he covered your hand with his to make you stop. His fingers fell between yours, and the two of you fell asleep like that.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean woke up when sunlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains. He squinted and rolled over to see what time it was.

8:00.

He groaned and sat up, glancing over at the other bed. Surprisingly, Sam was still asleep, though Dean couldn’t blame him. To Sam, being with you was more important than a run or getting up early with the sun or whatever the hell he did before the sun made its appearance. It was so obvious that his little brother had a crush on you, no matter how many times he adamantly denied it. You were a little more difficult to read, though Dean was pretty sure that you felt the same way. Once this hunt was over, Dean was going to have to do something about that situation. Sam needed a little push to get over his insecurities. You were definitely not like all of the other women he fell for; you could handle it.

He pushed those thoughts away. After pulling on some clothes, he looked around the room for something he could use to wake up the two of you. With a glance at your bag, he saw an air horn poking out of the side pocket. He didn’t even question why you had an air horn, he just picked it up and turned it over in his hands, contemplating the best place to stand to avoid any bodily injury. He chose the foot of the bed and grinned just before pressing the down on the horn.

An ungodly loud alarm sounded and you and Sam jerked awake, scrambling for a weapon or anything to help your shock and surprise, but you got tangled in the sheets and ended up falling in a heap on the side of the bed. Dean laughed hard, doubling over and gasping for breath as he watched the pile of limbs and blankets writhe on the ground.

“Ugh, Y/N get your elbow out of my face,” Sam growled in a raspy voice.

“Your knee is in my stomach, you gigantic lump of lard!” You nearly yelled, elbowing Sam in the shoulder on purpose. Or, Dean was almost positive it was on purpose. “And that’s my boob, not a handle.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna apologize for that one,” Sam muttered, finally managing to extract himself from the pile of chaos. He glanced around the room and found Dean who was just barely getting his amusement under control. Seeing Sam’s glare broke Dean again and he nearly fell over in his fit of laughter. “Asshole.”

“Oh, you should have seen you two,” Dean gasped out. “I should have recorded that.”

“You’re totally gonna regret this one, Winchester,” you glared at him. You had a great glare, one that had worked on many people on hunts, but Dean just laughed it off. Besides, with the way your hair was floating from the static, he couldn’t take you seriously.

“I’ll meet you guys at that diner in ten. We gotta get a roll on. Kids to save. Grateful young single mothers to accept thanks from.” He wiggled his eyebrows, enjoying the matching disgusted looks on both of your faces. “Rise and shine! It’s a new day.”

He laughed as he grabbed his wallet and keys and walked out of the room. Fifteen minutes later, two very disgruntled people joined him at the booth, growling their orders at the waitress. It was unusual that Dean was the peppy one of the bunch and he finally realized why you two laughed at him so often. It was fun.

Once you and Sam had woken up even more and had some caffeine in your systems, the three of you resumed your research from the day before. Dean dragged you along to question the other families with missing children about their routes to school and left Sam alone in the motel room to surf the web. After a few hours, Dean felt that you guys had finally pinpointed the house and you all got ready for action.

* * *

“I’m keeping this,” you told the boys, holding your taser to your chest. “Ricardo and I have a long history.”

“Ricardo?” Sam asked.

“What’s wrong with Ricardo?” You asked in a dark voice, daring him to argue or tease.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Nothing, as long as he’s charged and ready.”

“Don’t worry. Rick here is always ready for some action.”

“Never thought I’d have something in common with a taser,” Dean muttered before climbing out of the Impala and heading to the trunk. Sam reached for his door as well, but you reached over the seat and laid your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Hey Sam?” He turned to you with an open face. “About this morning… I know you grabbed my boob on purpose.”

He started sputtering immediately. “What? No I—I didn’t, I mean…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you cut in grinning. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

You waited a second for him to work through your words, leaving the car once the shock came on his face. Leaving him alone after that comment was kind of evil, but you had a job to do. You could work out any complicated feeling stuff once this hard core heavy metal fan who kidnapped children was dead.

You walked down the street in between the Winchesters, feeling exposed in the bright sunlight. Most of your work was done at night, which didn’t leave much time to get a tan, unfortunately. The warmth from the sun’s rays lifted your mood even more and you had a bounce in your step that hadn’t been there for a while.

After walking down three blocks, you reached the house Sam had pinpointed on the map of school routes. You tilted your head and looked at the white stucco and clean windows. “Not really what I pictured for a monster called a Rawhead.”

Dean just grunted and resumed walking. You started to follow him, but Sam reached out and stopped you. “Hey, Y/N, about what you said in the car—“

“Can we talk about that later? We’ve got a monster to gank and some unfortunately grateful single mother that’s willing to get Dean some action.”

“And what about you?” Sam asked, crossing his arms and eyeing you like you were a puzzle that he would love to figure out.

“I’m not really into the single mother type, but I’ll try anything once,” you replied flippantly. Sam just rolled his eyes and fought against a grin, prompting you to give him a real answer. “I don’t know if I’ll get some action tonight. I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

“Guess so,” Sam muttered, dropping his head as his small, adorable grin took over his face.

“You two lovebirds coming or not?” Dean yelled from halfway down the block.

“We’re not lovebirds!” You yelled back, silently adding the _yet_. Sam jerked his head toward Dean and both of you started walking again.

“Well, Sammy got to second base this morning, so pardon me for making assumptions,” Dean winked.

“I’m not going to pardon you,” you muttered, pushing past him so your shoulder knocked against his. “But if you’ll excuse _me_, I have a monster named after some obscure metal band’s fans to gank and some kinds to save, hopefully.”

As you walked away, you heard Dean whisper to Sam. “You’ve got yourself a good one there, little brother. Don’t let her get away.”

“Dean,” Sam whined. You approached the house with a smile on your face. Silently the three of you plastered yourselves against the wall next to a side door. Dean picked the lock and the door opened without a squeak or creak. This was one clean monster.

Since you had the taser, you took the lead as the three of you quickly cleared the rooms on the main floor. The air in this house felt… different. It was heavier than usual. You knew what it was, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. It was one of those feelings like when you see someone that you’ve met before, but you can’t quite place where you know them from.

One of the brothers whistled and you walked over to find Sam waiting in front of a door that looked like it would lead down to the basement where you’d expected the monster to be. He started to count down, but you finally placed the feeling and held your hand up to stop him. Motioning them away from the door, you gathered close so your whisper would be understood. “The basement’s flooded. When I was twelve my family came back from vacation and our house had been flooded for days.”

“Flooded?” Sam considered this new information and you could see the lightbulb turn on. “The lore said Rawheads like to hang out around lakes to scare kids into not drowning or whatever.”

“Great,” you bit out. “So I have to make sure I’m on dry ground when I use Rick.”

As certain as your words were, you knew that you would kill this monster one way or another. You were a hunter, and it was your destiny to die bloody so as long as you saved a few kids in the process, it would all be worth it. But you would still do everything you could to get everyone out safely, and that included you.

Armed with this new knowledge, you took your places at the door again. Sam slowly turned the knob and opened the door, which was as well-oiled as the side door had been. You stared down into the dark and nearly groaned. The stairs led to the middle of the room, and they were the wooden kind where someone hiding under them could reach through and grab your ankle as you walked down. That’s where it would be.

Using hand signals, Dean motioned that he would go first, followed by you, and Sam would take the rear. Dean and Sam were charged with the job of getting any kids out and you were to focus on the Rawhead.

Gun and flashlight out, Dean started down the creaky stairs. Halfway down, he suddenly turned around and looked under the stairs. A quick shake of his head told you all that you needed to know: the monster wasn’t there. You started down the stairs, followed closely by Sam. There was a foot of water on the floor.

“At least I wore my old shoes,” you muttered as you stepped into the grimy water, barely loud enough to make out.

Whimpers to your right made all three of you jerk your heads toward an old chest freezer. Sam and Dean rushed over and you faced the other way with Ricardo at the ready. You felt, more than saw, Dean and Sam pull three kids out of the freezer and usher them up the stairs. If the monster was here, this was the time it would attack. You were taking its food.

But Dean and Sam got the kids up the stairs with no problem and Sam returned a minute later. More noises came from behind a door. You motioned for Sam to open it and three more kids huddled against a far wall. You and Sam rushed in and you barely registered one of the kids pointing behind you when something grabbed you around your neck and dragged you back.

“Y/N!” Sam yelled.

“Get them out of here!” You choked out, elbowing the thing in its face until it let you go. The kids ran out the door and Sam followed with one last look back at you. You punched the monster and it stumbled back long enough for you to trudge through the swamp and go back to the stairs. Sam and the kids disappeared into the main part of the house and you kept your eyes moving, searching for the monster.

“Come here you son of a bitch.” Walking backward, you stepped up one stair, then another, until you were on a dry step.

In the next second the monster jumped at you, tackling you into the water again. You struggled for the upper hand, water filling your nostrils and mouth. Once again, you managed to get away, but the Rawhead ran at you and you raised the taser without thinking, pulling the trigger.

The last thing you saw before your body convulsed and your world went black was Sam at the top of the stairs, screaming your name.

* * *

“No, no, no,” Sam pleaded, running his hands over your face frantically. He and Dean had pulled you out of the flooded basement, but you weren’t responding to anything they tried. Only a faint pulse kept their hopes afloat. “You can’t die on me now, Y/N.”

He stared at you, just lying on the floor. You weren’t moving or smiling or joking around. It was all so wrong. “_Please_. Don’t die.”

“Dammit Cas!” Dean growled, pacing. “Where are you, you son of a bitch?”

Sam cradled your cheek with his hand as his lower lip started shaking and breathing became a chore. “You can’t die. Not now. Things were—things were finally…” He trailed off, not able to speak the words he was thinking. Instead, he pulled his resolve together and looked up at his brother. “Dean, we gotta do something.”

“What? What can we do, Sam? Cas isn’t answering!”

“I don’t know, Dean! A hospital, a witch, a crossroads? _Something_!”

Common sense came back to Dean and he shook his finger like he just thought of a good plan. “Right. A hospital. I’ll get the car, you get Y/N.”

Dean flew out of the house, digging the keys from his coat pocket. Sam leaned down until his forehead touched yours and he could just feel your shallow breaths on his lips. “We’re gonna get you help, Y/N. This isn’t gonna be how you die. I promise.”

He waited for your usual snappy retort for a brief second before remembering that you weren’t going to say anything. The silence broke his heart and it took all he had in him to scoop you into his arms. You were so small; so light. It was almost like you weren’t even there.

But you were there. You were always there. Whenever Sam needed you or wanted you—hell, even when Sam wanted to be alone you were there. And it was always what he needed. _You_ were always what he needed. That’s why you weren’t going to die.

Sam reached the sidewalk just as Dean pulled up to the curb. Without wasting any time he slid into the backseat and held you close to his chest. “Go.”

Dean floored it, the car responding to his touch like a well-seasoned hunting partner. Sam was vaguely aware of the houses streaking by in the windows, but his attention was on the woman in his arms. He had been too cowardly to admit his feelings for you. He hadn’t told you and all that he could think of as he looked at your pale face was of all the lost time. If only he had made a move before today. But instead he hid and left it up to you to kick start any relationship the two of you might develop.

“We’re here,” Dean announced, pulling up to the drop off doors of the emergency room. Sam shoved the door open and carried you into the building where you were promptly whisked away and he was cornered by nurses who asked him questions upon questions without leaving him room to answer.

“Look, I’m not the one you need to be helping right now!” Sam exploded, silencing the nurses. “You need to get back there and make Y/N better, _now_, okay?”

“Sir, we need to know what happened—“

“What happened is that my girlfriend is dying and you aren’t doing jack to help!” Sam glared at the nurses and they shrunk away from his look.

“Alright,” Dean butted in, placing a hand on Sam’s chest to tell him to back down. “Let’s just calm down a little before we have to admit another patient. I’ll answer your questions. Sam, just… take a walk. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

Sam shook his head vehemently and stalked over to a chair, plopping down with his eyes trained on the doors you’d disappeared through. It seemed like ages before Dean came over.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Dean glanced over at his little brother. Sam didn’t react besides a small jerk of the head. “You know, when Y/N finds out you called her your girlfriend without even talking to her about that first, she’s gonna be so pissed.”

Still, Sam didn’t react.

Dean just shrugged and continued talking. “You should probably be on the lookout for some clown pictures.”

This time Sam looked at Dean. “What’s wrong with you? Y/N might be dying and you’re joking around?”

“She’s not dying, Sam,” Dean said matter of factly. He saw the dubious look on Sam’s face and grew more serious. “She’s not. You think Y/N would go out like this? Sure, it’s got the shock factor, but she isn’t done yet. And you know that. You gotta have faith, Sammy—“

“Faith? That’s rich coming from you,” Sam scoffed. “Since when did you become Mr. Faith guy? What’s next? Preaching sermons to a congregation?”

“I’m not talking about faith in God, Sam. I’m talking about faith in Y/N.” The disappointed look in Dean’s eyes made Sam drop his head. “She’s gonna pull through, but you gotta stay positive. You think she would leave you with blue balls like that? She’s not that kind of girl and you know that. You know that she’s stronger than some pedo monster. Ricardo wouldn’t take her out like that.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Sam muttered.

Dean slapped his knee. “Damn straight, I’m right.”

Faith in you. Sam could handle that.


	3. Chapter 3

“Excuse me, are you here for Y/N?” A doctor in his fifties approached the Winchesters. Sam stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. Dean’s reaction was a little slower.

“How is she?” Sam asked quickly.

“She’s stable right now—“

“Will she be okay?”

“We’re not positive but—“

“How can you not be positive? You’re a doctor. You should know these things,” Sam cut in again, babbling frantically.

Dean clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him back a step. “How about we let the man speak, eh Sammy?”

Sam pursed his lips, but stayed silent.

The doctor nodded his thanks at Dean. “Y/N is in a coma, but she is stable. She sustained injuries to her heart and brain and we can’t be sure to what extent these injuries affected her until she is conscious.”

“But she will regain consciousness, right?” Dean asked before Sam could open his mouth.

The regretful look on the doctor’s face cut right through Sam. “It is uncertain with coma patients, and even more uncertain with patients who have suffered an electrical shock like Y/N.”

“Can I—Can I see her?” Sam asked in a small voice.

“I’ll take you to her.”

As if in a daze, Sam followed the white coat through the halls of the hospital until the coat stopped outside a door. “She’s right through there. Stay as long as you want.”

Sam nodded his thanks and slowly pushed open the door. He took a deep, steadying breath before walking into the room. You were hooked up to so many tubes and wires that he could barely see you. In the year that he’d known you, not once had he ever seen you so small and helpless.

There was a chair next to the bed and he heavily sat down, reaching for your hand. A single tear rolled down his cheek and he didn’t bother wiping it away.

You had to live. You just had to.

* * *

You were floating in a land of nothingness. No color, no stress, no air. Your body wasn’t responding to any commands your mind sent, but you didn’t really care. Why would you want to move when everything was so relaxing? You weren’t sure how long you stayed in that state of limbo before something changed.

Your mind conjured up a face. Luscious sandy hair falling into the deepest brown eyes. You knew this man from somewhere, but you couldn’t conjure up any memory of him. Something told you that you wanted to know who this man was. You wanted to remember, but every time you thought back, it was like a noose slipped around your neck. The longer you tried, the more the noose tightened until you were suffocating and scrambling at the intense pressure in your throat.

Your state of limbo seemed to pop like a balloon making the pain and pressure even more intense. Something was in your throat and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even _think_. Your fingers tangled in cords in an attempt to free yourself, but then two hands gripped your wrists and pinned them to the pillow beside your head. Noises started registering, but they were warped like you were underwater and rising rapidly.

“Y/N,” an unfamiliar gruff voice was saying. It took you a moment to remember that that was your name. “Calm down, you’re okay. I need some help in here!”

Seconds later there were more hands prodding you and finally removing the tube that had been in your throat. You took a gasping breath, regretting it immediately when your throat caught on fire. Nurses kept talking in soothing voices until you calmed down and let them do their jobs.

Why were you in a hospital? What had happened? Slowly, you pried your eyes open. A pleasant looking nurse was the first person you saw. She smiled. “There we go. Nice and easy. It’s good to see your eyes, Y/N.”

“Wh—“ Speaking was worse than breathing. It took a few minutes of sipping water before you tried again. “What happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” The nurse asked.

“I—“ you tried to think back, but nothing came up. Your eyes darted around the room and landed on a tall, handsome man who seemed slightly familiar. He was watching you with an intensity you had never seen on anyone. You had to look away. “I can’t remember. My… my parents?”

A sigh came from the man and he leaned over to whisper something to a nurse who nodded and came over. “What about your parents, Y/N?”

“I don’t—there was… there was an accident. They didn’t make it.” For some reason, that memory felt distant. It didn’t seem like that accident was the reason you were in the hospital now.

“Y/N,” the nurse said consolingly, and you knew she was about to deliver some bad news. “Your boyfriend, Sam, says that accident happened five years ago. Do you remember anything since then?”

You shook your head, tears springing to your eyes. The man hesitantly stepped forward. “Y/N. Do you… do you know who I am?”

Something from the back of your memories was pulling you, but you couldn’t quite reach it as you studied the man in front of you. The longer you stayed silent, the more he seemed to withdraw within himself. Finally, you had to force the words out. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

* * *

_ I don’t._

Your words raced around in Sam’s mind. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t know who he was or remember the jokes you and he had played on Dean. You had no idea who he was.

“What happened?” Your scratchy voice asked, glancing around at everyone in the room. The nurses all looked at Sam for an explanation.

He cleared his throat and tried to keep his emotions out of his voice. “We were helping someone with their flooded basement and a wire or something fell into the water when you were down there.”

Sam desperately wanted you to argue with him. He wanted you to call him on his lie, but all that you did was watch him with a blank expression. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“That’s fine,” Sam hurried to reassure you. Since you didn’t remember him, he saw no reason to stick around and complicate your life even more. He knew that he shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. Bad things happened to people in his life. So he started backing toward the door. “I’m just glad that you’re awake.”

“Uh, Sam?” He froze, hearing his name from your lips. “It _is_ Sam, right?”

He nodded, unable to speak.

“Look, I may not remember who you are now, but… but it feels wrong to have you leave.”

“I guess…” Sam looked into your eyes and felt his resolve falter. “I guess I can stay, then.”

He walked back toward the bed and slowly lowered himself into the chair. Gingerly, he shifted until he was in a semi-comfortable position. Seeing that you would be well-looked after, the nurses left, muttering something about how the doctor would probably be in to order some more tests.

“What was that about you being my boyfriend?” You asked.

Sam panicked a little. “Oh, uh,” he scratched his head. “We aren’t dating, not really. It was just easier to call you my girlfriend instead of explaining that you were a girl who was just my friend. Actually, you know what? I should probably go call Dean and tell him that you’re awake.” Sam stood to leave and was nearly to the door when he realized you wouldn’t remember Dean either. “Dean’s my brother. The three of us, we… well we used to travel around together.”

He glanced back at you one more time before leaving, trying to forget the lost and pained expression you wore. As he stalked down the hallway, he tried to reign in his emotions. You were out. You didn’t have to come back to the life. It wasn’t until after your parents died that you started hunting. If you didn’t remember any of that, then you could be safe.

As soon as he stepped outside, he called Dean.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean answered. “What’s new?”

“She’s awake, Dean,” Sam said softly.

“What? That’s great! I told you she wasn’t going to die on us!”

“Dean, Dean!” Sam cut him off. “She’s awake, but she doesn’t remember anything. The last thing she remembers is her parents’ accident five years ago.”

There was silence on the other end, then Dean’s soft, “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“So we jog her memory. Get Cas to give her memories back if he ever answers his phone. Or we could—“

“Do nothing,” Sam intoned flatly. “We don’t do anything, Dean. She doesn’t remember monsters. She’s out. She can live a normal life. We give her what she needs to start over and get the hell away.”

“Sam,” Dean said disappointedly. Sam could hear the familiar growl of the Impala over the phone.

“No, Dean. This is what has to happen. I knew it was crazy to even think that things could be different with her. We gotta let her go. _I_ gotta let her go. It’s what’s best.”

“Best for who? You know Y/N wouldn’t want the apple pie kind of life. She loves hunting. She loves saving people. Sure, she’s not too crazy about always having to do laundry at a laundromat, but that’s the only complaint she has.”

“Dean—“

“Look, just don’t… don’t do anything until I get there, okay? Promise me, Sammy.”

Sam started arguing, but Dean cut him off.

“Promise me you won’t do anything.”

“Fine,” Sam spat out. “I promise.”

* * *

“I can’t explain it, but you seem fit as a fiddle,” the doctor said, looking over your file.

“Except for the whole memory thing.” Not knowing anything about the last five years of your life was so frustrating. You wanted to scream and yell and demand that someone return your memories or else… or else, well, _something_. Eventually you would think of a good threat to this nonexistent being that stole your memories.

“Yes, well, you could still recover your memories, or at least a few. It’s not uncommon for people with amnesia to slowly get their memories back.”

“I’m not that patient, Doc. Isn’t there some kind of pill or implant that could speed up the process?”

“I’m afraid there isn’t. Your best option is to get back out in the world and hope something triggers a memory. Maybe a smell, or a sight.”

“Great,” you muttered. “It’ll be like living in a jack in the box.” At the curious look from the doctor, you explained. “I mean it’ll be like I’m just waiting on the edge for anything to pop out at me. Kind of like a—whatever. Can I go, then?”

After signing a few forms, you were free to leave. Taking one last look around the room where you’d been for the last few weeks, one of which you’d been unconscious, you bid it good riddance and stepped into the hallway. As you walked to the elevator, you saw Dean leaning against a wall, flirting with a cute nurse. He looked up, noticed you, and wrapped up his conversation with the woman.

“You’re free!”

“I’m free!” You tried to inject some enthusiasm into your voice, but it was difficult. You had no idea what you were going to do now. Maybe you had spent the last year with the Winchesters, but it seemed like Sam didn’t want you around anymore. At least, he rarely came to your room once you woke up and when he did, he made sure Dean was with him. Your family was dead, and you didn’t know anything that had happened in the world in the last five years. How the hell were you supposed to survive on your own?

Dean wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you to the elevators. “How should we celebrate? Beer and burgers? Pie?”

Celebrate what? Your uncertain future? “You know, I think I just want to get a few hours of sleep on a real bed. I think hospital beds are designed to keep you awake so that you suffer and have to spend more time recovering so the hospitals get more money.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean’s face fall a little, but you didn’t let it bother you. Maybe he _did_ know you, but you didn’t know him. And it wasn’t like you would be sticking around long enough to rectify that. Sam didn’t want you around, and you knew that family came first. You just wondered how long it would take before the brothers would cut you loose.

Back at the hotel, Dean unlocked the room and walked in. “I found a stray. Can we keep her?”

“Y/N!” Sam stood, hastily closing his laptop. “It’s good to see you out of the hospital.”

“Thanks,” you forced a smile and glanced around the room, immediately noticing the problem. There were only two beds. After everything these two men had done for you in the last few weeks, you couldn’t kick them out. In the corner of the room, you noticed a familiar bag and strode over to collect it. “Well, I guess I should go see if there’s an available room.”

“What? Why?” Dean asked, glancing at his brother.

You looked back and forth between them. “Well, there’re only two beds and I thought—“

Sam jumped in. “Take mine. I can sleep on the couch.”

“That’s not necessary. Besides, that couch isn’t long enough for—“

“Please, Y/N,” Sam said earnestly. “You’ve spent a month in the hospital and I’ve had a real bed. I can handle a night on the couch.”

Still, you hesitated. There was a weird vibe between the youngest brother and you, and the sympathetic look Dean shot Sam wasn’t helping the situation. “Well, I guess. If you’re sure…”

“Positive.”

“Okay then. I’ll just—“ you motioned to the bathroom and awkwardly retreated to the small room for a moment alone. You gripped the counter and leaned forward to study your features in the mirror. The time in the hospital sure had taken a toll on you. You were paler than usual, or at least your usual from five years ago.

You got ready for bed and carefully went back into the main room. Sam and Dean had been having a heated conversation, but stopped when they saw you. The next few minutes were full of awkward silence as they got ready for bed as well. Dean fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but Sam stayed up a few more minutes, reading in the lamp light.

As hard as you tried and as tired as you were, sleep just wouldn’t come. Even after Sam turned off the light and you were bathed in darkness, you still tossed and turned. An hour passed of you trying to get to sleep and listening to the couch creak every time Sam shifted restlessly. Finally, you gave into your instincts.

“Sam,” You whispered across the room. His movement stopped and you knew he was listening. “That can’t be comfortable and this bed is big enough for two.”

“I’m fine,” he protested. “You enjoy having a real bed to yourself.”

“Well, since I can’t seem to sleep on my own, I can’t exactly enjoy the bed. And you aren’t having much luck either.” Whatever had happened between Sam and you before you lost your memories sure left a lasting mark if you were willing to sleep in the same bed as a virtual stranger. You trusted him, and what’s more, it was like your body knew that you would sleep better next to Sam.

“Okay, if you’re sure…”

“Positive,” you said, repeating his words from earlier.

His soft footsteps padded across the room and the bed dipped when he sat down. “You can always wake me up and tell me to leave if you want.”

“I can’t tell you to leave if you never lie down,” you said cheekily, pulling the covers open for him. He hesitantly slid in and waited for you to make the next move, but as soon as you did, it was like your body knew exactly which way the most comfortable position was and you curled into his side, throwing a leg over his and laying your head down just over his heart.

“Good night, Sam.”


	4. Chapter 4

_ These monsters were _not_ the vampires you originally thought you were hunting. They were just crazy, psycho humans and there were more of them than you expected. You were in way over your head, but you couldn’t escape until they were dead or gone because they were all over the house. You couldn’t face them until your backup showed up, and even then you weren’t sure if you could kill them. They were just humans, after all._

_ So you sprinted up the stairs and tried every door you could until you found one that was unlocked. In a flash you were inside the small closet with your hands pressed against the wooden door, breathing heavily._

_ Movement behind you and the soft sound of someone breathing made you twist around and grapple for a weapon, but a large hand covered your mouth, surprising you and impeding your plans._

_ “Shh, shh.” Apparently the man expected you to scream, or something. “We don’t want them to hear us.”_

_ You threw the man’s hand off your face. “Why are you hiding in a closet?”_

_ “Why are _you_?” He challenged._

_ “Touché. I guess it has something to do with the vampires who aren’t really vampires down there. My backup is running a little late.” You nodded toward him, waiting for his explanation._

_ “You’re a hunter, too? Good. My brother’s coming, but this is a weird case for just the two of us.”_

_ “Tell me about it.” Since he was a hunter, you relaxed more. Just as your muscles unwound, there was a noise from the other side of the door and both of you froze. You looked up at the man with wide eyes. “I don’t have any weapons. They took them all.”_

_ He held up a gun and motioned for you to switch places with him. After a few attempts and accidentally knocking something over, you stopped moving and tried to think of a better plan. The man, who was very attractive, had a quicker mind than you and he reached around you, pulling you up to his chest so that there was no space between the two of you. Whatever his plan was, you didn’t mind at all._

_ “You sure work quickly, don’t you?” you muttered, distracted by the hardness of his chest against yours._

_ He started shuffling around on the spot until you had switched places, then he let you go. “I think you have me confused with my brother.”_

_ “Well, since I don’t know either of you, how could I confuse you?”_

_ He grinned and the sight made you smile back immediately. He had a beautiful smile. “I’m Sam. Sam Winchester.”_

—–

_ “How can you like Superman over Batman? That’s like… like—“ Sam trailed off, looking for a good comparison._

_ “Like eating pie for breakfast instead of one of your gross spinach smoothies?” You supplied with an eyebrow raised. “Batman just plays dress up and he’s a CEO or whatever, so that automatically makes him a douche. Superman is humble, plus he has _real_ superpowers, not just cool toys.”_

_ “He wears his underwear on the outside of his clothes.”_

_ “Not in the last movie!” You pointed out. Sam just rolled his eyes and grumbled something about him still being right and you being stubborn._

_—–_

_ “Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes. “There’s no way you can beat me at this game. I grew up in arcades like this one.”_

_ Dean crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes in a challenge. “Sweetheart, these games raised me. We’re family.”_

_ “Right. I guess we’ll just have to see, then.”_

_ You and Dean picked a game and, after a good minute of healthy competitive glaring, began. It didn’t take you long to get in the zone and kick ass, but when the time was up and you looked at Dean’s score, you groaned. He won by ten points._

_ “Whoo!” He raised his arms in the air and strutted around. “Who’s the champion? That’s right, ME!”_

_ “Oh, please. I _let_ you win, Deany-baby,” you completely lied._

_ He scoffed. “Yeah, right.”_

_ “Rematch?”_

_—–_

_ You walked into Sam’s room, eyes on the book in your hands. “Hey, Sam. What do you know about—oh. _Oh_.”_

_ He scrambled to make sure the towel around his waist was secure while you let your eyes travel over the hard lines of his chest. “What are you doing?”_

_ “Checking you out, apparently. I am _so_ glad I have a bad habit of not knocking before I walk into a room. And I’m sorry for teasing you about actually working out. Keep up the good work, Winchester.” Thoroughly enjoying the red that rose to his face, you decided to draw this out a little longer and walked over, holding the book out to him. He let go of the towel with one hand to grab the book, but the other was still holding on with a death grip. “What do you know about rugarus?”_

_ Flustered, he tripped over his explanation, but you weren’t really listening anyway. Damn, Sam had a _nice_ body._

_—–_

_ “And then Sharon practically flew across the room and tackled me. It was actually amazing how much damage she did and still she didn’t even break a fake nail.”_

_ “Please tell us you kicked her ass,” Dean pleaded._

_ You just grinned. “Nope. Because I saw Jake walk in and he got really mad, tore her off of me, and I played the damsel in distress so that he would take care of me. And that, dear boys, is the story of how I caught my first boyfriend.”_

_ “If he hadn’t walked in, you would have kicked her ass though, right?” Sam asked_

_ You smirked. “I was about three seconds away from it.”_

_ “Good,” Sam sat back and laced his fingers behind his head._

_—–_

_ “I don’t really know what happened.” You walked into the motel room, clothes and skin caked with dried blood. Sam and Dean both shot up and rushed over, checking you for wounds. You swatted them away. “_I’m_ fine. Those witches aren’t.”_

_ “You took them on without us? What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed!” Sam glared at you, concern under his anger._

_ “Well, they didn’t exactly give me a choice! I was just walking down the street, checking the place out like you guys told me to and the next thing I know they jumped me and dragged me into the house and what was I supposed to do? Ask them nicely if they could possibly wait to disembowel me or put a curse on me so I could call my backup?” You pulled your shirt away from your stomach and grimaced. You actually liked that shirt. It would be a shame to see it go up in flames. “Dean, you were right. Witches do spew bodily fluids everywhere. Even when they’re dead.”_

_ Still fuming, but satisfied with your explanation, Sam took your arm and led you to the bathroom. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”_

_ “What?” You pretended to pout. “You don’t like your women dirty?”_

_ Sam laughed, his mood lightening a bit. “Not _this_ dirty.”_

_ Catching your reflection in the mirror, you winced. “Ugh. I look like a used tampon.”_

_ “Uh, well, I’ll just get you your bag,” Sam was visibly uncomfortable at your simile. “I don’t think a wet washcloth is gonna help this.”_

_—–_

_ “So get this,” Sam said as soon as you and Dean walked into the motel room. You looked victoriously at the older brother and held out your hand in the universal sign for _pay up, loser_. He sighed, but pulled out his wallet and slapped five ones into your hand. He knew that he would lose. Both of you knew Sam too well. Sam, however, just looked adorably confused. “What was that about?”_

_ “Nothing,” Dean growled, still pretending to be angry that he lost._

_ “A bet,” you clarified, not about to let Dean off the hook. Sam just raised his eyebrows, waiting to hear more. You strode over and kissed the top of his head. “A bet that _you _helped me win. So thanks, Sammy.”_

_ “You’re…welcome?”_

_—–_

_ I know you grabbed my boob on purpose._

_ I never said I didn’t like it._

_ An unassuming house on a suburban block._

_ About what you said in the car…_

_ I don’t know if I’ll get some action tonight. I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?_

_ Water. Water everywhere. In your nose, mouth, pressing down on your body._

_ Get them out of here!_

_ Your finger pulling the trigger._

_ Y/N!!!_

* * *

“Y/N!” Someone was shaking you by the shoulders. “Y/N, wake up. It’s just a dream.”

Your eyes opened slowly and it felt like your head was about to explode from too much new information. Five years’ worth of new information, to be exact. “Stop the earthquake,” you groaned. “I’m awake.”

The movement stopped, but the hands still gripped your shoulders. Your eyes finished opening and the first thing you saw was Sam’s concerned face hovering above you. “It was just a dream, Y/N. You’re safe.”

You didn’t know where it came from. Maybe it was the flood of memories, most of them starring the man in front of you. Maybe it was relief at remembering who you were and who he was. Whatever it was, it gave you the courage to prop yourself up on one elbow and twist your fingers into his hair, pulling Sam’s lips down to yours. He froze for a brief second before his body took over and he kissed you back forcefully, lowering you back to the bed. Your hands explored every dip and muscle of his back, slipping under the thin fabric of his tee-shirt.

That skin on skin contact seemed to bring Sam back to his senses and he pulled back, but not too far. Warily confused, he stared down at you. “Y/N… what…?”

“You’re Samuel Winchester. That’s your brother Dean. You were raised in this life after a demon killed your mom. A year ago we ran into each other on that vamp hunt that turned out to not be a vamp hunt and you tried to get fresh with me in a closet. You don’t think pie is a real breakfast food, and you’re wrong about that, by the way. The next story about my life I was going to tell you and Dean was how I lost my virginity, which is actually a really stupid and boring story. You are practically a research god and you definitely have the body to be a god. Dean thinks you suck at poker, but I know that you’re a lot better than you let on.” You paused, taking a moment to look into his eyes, which were becoming clearer and more hopeful. “I remember you, Sam.”

“You… remember?” He asked cautiously, trailing his fingers ever so lightly over your forehead, your cheek, your nose.

“That flooded basement you said we were helping a friend out with? We were hunting that heavy metal monster. Did… did I kill him, at least?”

“Yeah,” Sam choked out. A tear fell from his cheek to yours. “Yeah, he’s dead. The kids are all safe.”

“Good,” you whispered. “And those better be happy tears, Winchester.”

He wiped away any more tears. “What? I’m not crying. These aren’t—“

“Right. Sure they aren’t. Just kiss me, Winchester.”

Sam grinned and lowered his lips to yours. Just as the kiss began, the bed on the other side of the room creaked and Dean cleared his throat. “I _would _kiss you, but I’m comfortable over here.”

You choked back a laugh. “Wrong Winchester, Winchester.”

Dean’s smile was visible in his words, even though you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Sam’s. “You meant… oh! Right. Well, enjoy yourselves over there. Keep it down.”

“Whatever you say, Dean,” you replied with a grin. Sam kissed you again, but then settled back into bed for the rest of the night. Apparently anything that you would have to keep quiet would have to wait until the two of you were alone.

A minute passed before Dean spoke again. “Y/N? It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.”


End file.
